Mechanical Music Teacher
by I Asked Alice
Summary: Just as she did everyday since she'd maimed him, Madotsuki walked to the apartment of her piano teacher.


A/N: Ah, tasty, tasty allegories…

_I apologize in advance if some bits are confusing. I like using em-dashes, but this website likes to murder them and make them regular dashes. You'd think I'd just stop using em-dashes in the first place, but nope. That's not how I roll._

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_Just as she did everyday since she'd maimed him, Madotsuki walked to the apartment of her piano teacher._

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**Mechanical Music Teacher**

As she did everyday, young Madotsuki walked to the spaceship where her piano teacher lived. She ignored the heavy silence, and she ignored the twisting buildings. She turned her eyes from the creeping denizens, their own eyes staring at her hungrily, and she walked up the pristine stairs with confidence as if they didn't lead to the home of a alien.

"Masada!" Madotsuki chimed, beaming as she saw the older man¾the obsidian haired alien¾ standing at his piano. Madotsuki rushed to him, tugging on the man's clothes eagerly, but Masada did not even so much as glance at the girl.

This was nothing new to Madotsuki. It happened every day. Try as Madotsuki may to make him do so, Masada would never peel his eyes away from his piano. His fingers not even for a moment thinking of leaving their place at the keyboard. He would not even speak to Madotsuki, often hardly aware of her presence.

The child sighed and made her way to his usual spot on the lone chair at the table. She watched the older man, listening carefully to each note that is hit and each sound that was made. Madotsuki had always felt the sounds that Masada's made are somehow wrong. Where Madotsuki dreamt the keys would sing light tunes like wind chimes, strange beeps are uttered instead. The entire keyboard was strange, she noticed. Stretching far across the room and hitting notes so deep they made Madotsuki's heart vibrate and screeching notes so high the girl felt she would burst.

"I want to show you something today." Madotsuki smiled, shaking the strange thoughts from her mind. She jumped from her chair and darted back over to Masada, pulling a piece of paper from her pocket. Masada still didn't stop what's he'd been doing, seemingly uninterested in the child. "I drew you!"

And suddenly the music stopped, the forceful silence from outside pouring into the room. Madotsuki gasped, the sound echoing and sounding harsh and foreign to her. The alien turned slowly towards her, one hand resting on the piano, the other hanging loosely at his side. For the first time that Madotsuki could remember, the alien was looking at her.

It was different that she'd imagined. Masada's stare was blank and his eyes were glossy-his olive black irises refusing to look in the same direction. Madotsuki had never imaged the alien would truly acknowledge her this way, and she'd never imagined how horrible the dead look in Masada's eyes would be.

Suddenly, the alien seemed too real. He was looking right into her soul.

And that terrified the girl.

"No, you're alive." Madotsuki mumbled.

She pinched herself awake.

Just as she did everyday since she'd maimed him, Madotsuki walked to the apartment of her piano teacher. She ignored the blaring sirens, and ignored the crumbling buildings. She turned his eyes from the people staring, hungry for her supposed happiness, and walked up the rusting stairs with confidence, as if they weren't weakened by their age.

"Masada." Madostsuki cooed, smiling gently as she saw the older man¾the obsidian haired sleeper¾ lying half dead on his couch. Madotsuki strode to him, tugging on the man's clothes and ramshackle bandages eagerly to make sure he was still alive, but Masada did not even so much as glance at the girl.

This was nothing new to Madotsuki. It happened every day. Try as Madotsuki may, Masada only grew quieter. He decayed more everyday—his body not even for a moment thinking of leaving the places where Madotsuki put it. He could not even speak to Madotsuki, often hardly aware of her presence.

Madotsuki sighed and made her way to her usual spot on the lone chair at the table. She watched the older man, listening carefully to breath Masada took and each sound that he made. Madotsuki had never cared about anyone enough to watch them so closely before, but she felt that if she left she'd wither away and die. She knew she shouldn't be so petty, but it just wasn't fair that Masada had to be older. She knew it was selfish, but she still felt relieved that he'd never have to hear the musician say "I don't feel the same way." She'd never have to hear the world deny her what she wanted most.

Madotsuki knew she was taking advantage of Masada, and she knew it was wrong to pretend Masada would love her back if his heart was still strong enough to even feel love anymore. Perhaps worst of all, she knew it was wrong to pretend she hadn't made him that way.

But she was afraid of losing what she knew she shouldn't have, so instead of hearing the horrible breathing of a dying man, she only heard the strange melodies of the piano she'd set Masada up to play.


End file.
